


God the Imperfect

by Ironkhaleesi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkhaleesi/pseuds/Ironkhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck agonises over your contradictions and his feelings until Charlie tells him to buck up and ask you out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God the Imperfect

“Chuck, give them back, or I will annihilate you,” you said. Your voice was calm but you made sure that Chuck could see the threat in the glaring of your eyes and the twisting of your lips. He had to stifle the smile that tugged at his lips.

“If only you knew how ironic that is,” he said as he turned your glasses this way and that in his hands. He slid them onto his face and looked around the kitchen. “I mean, they’re not even real glasses. Why bother?”

You snatched them from his face. “Because I can and I like them. Do you have a problem with that? Or can I go back to playing Halo? I’ve got to finish up the next round before Sherlock comes on.” 

Without waiting for an answer, you snatched up the bag of chips you’d gone into the kitchen for in the first place and stomped back towards the living room. You collapsed down onto the couch and gave Chuck a long look when he sat down next to you. He smiled; not at all perturbed by the obvious bitch face you were giving him. You sighed and shoved a handful of chips into your mouth before kicking your feet up onto the coffee table and taking your game off pause.

“You know,” you said as you started up a new kill streak. “When I moved in here, I didn’t think you’d spend your days bitching about my glasses.”

He rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up onto the table alongside yours. “I’m not bitching. I just don’t get them.”

“There’s nothing to get. Jesus, I don’t think I’ve heard this much complaining over meaningless crap from anyone before. And I’ve dated women.”

He looked at you. “Okay, see now that’s just sexist.”

You shrugged. “I’m a girl I can say it.” 

Not for the first time, Chuck smiled as he watched you play. Being a God, he’d seen a lot of incredible things. He’d watched planets form and galaxies rip apart, and yet nothing seemed so perfect as you. You were one of the most imperfect human beings in the world. You were a messy smart ass with the wit to rival Ryan Reynolds. You were noisy and impulsive. You didn’t apologise for your actions and you were stubborn as all get out. You were brutally honest, even when it hurt. You were flawed in the worst of ways and yet you were so perfect. 

You were a walking contradiction. And maybe that’s why Chuck liked you so much. 

He often thought that if he ever got a do-over he would just model the next human race after you. But that was selfish, and the whole reason earth was in the mess it was, was because Chuck had been selfish. 

He’d smite the entire human race before he ever told anyone that. Only you’d been able to make him admit it to himself, and that had been unknowing on your part. You didn’t know he was God (you’d laugh in his face if he told you he was) but after living with you for a year he’d wanted to know how you felt about God – him. You were an atheist – that hadn’t surprised him – but you’d said that if God did exist than he was a selfish prick that acted more like a spoilt child than an all-powerful being – he had been surprised by that. The response had only cemented his decision to not tell you who he was. 

Just because Chuck was able to admit to himself that he was selfish, that didn’t mean he would stop being selfish. So, knowing the consequences of his actions, he still kept the secret from you just so he could keep you in his life. He was God after all. He knew what would happen if he told you who he really was and you believed it. You would leave him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Besides, it wasn’t all bad, was it? It’s not like he could start a romance with you. You weren’t even attracted to men. So nothing too bad could come of him keeping that ultimate secret. 

A knock came at the door and you didn’t bother to turn your attention from the screen as you said, “That’s probably Charlie. Could you get that? And don’t let her in if she didn’t bring the burger.”

Chuck had a sudden thought that you would get along so well with the Winchesters. He squashed that thought immediately. Never would he ever introduce you to the Winchesters. You weren’t blissfully unaware of the monsters that scrounged your earth, Chuck knew that. And you knew who the Winchesters were. But Chuck would never allow you to get wrapped up with the brothers. 

Yes, he could bring you back to life if you died, but he couldn’t erase the scars and the trauma that the Winchesters would leave you with. Charlie was as close to that life as he’d let you get, and he had no real control over that anyway. It was chance that you’d become friends with Charlie at a Larping convention. 

Of course, the fact that the two of you were friends gave Chuck anxiety when he realised that he may not have as much control over you meeting the Winchesters as he’d hoped. Again, he squashed that thought. He was God for crying out loud. If he didn’t want you meeting the Winchesters than you weren’t going to meet the Winchesters.  
With a look on his face he knew was grim, Chuck stood up, stole a handful of your chips just to get your attention, and let Charlie in. 

She flounced into the room with a bright smile and swarmed straight to your side, flummoxing over your position on the leaderboard. (She’d only introduced you to the game two weeks ago and you were already climbing the ranks like a monkey.) Chuck – who’d previously been annoyed that Charlie had taken his seat – smiled proudly from behind the couch at Charlie’s baffled comments on your talent.

Yes, it was just a stupid video game and if anyone else had been playing Chuck wouldn’t have given two fucks (was that too brash for God? Chuck maybe?) at the ‘talent’ it took to reach top ranks in a leader board. But you were the one who was playing. And you were God’s favourite. You could have thrown a stone two yards and Chuck would have raced down the street like a proud mother yelling how magnificent her daughter was. 

Chuck tried to rationalise the feeling by assuming he was just fond of something he created. But it was much more than that. If he felt the way he did simply because he created you he’d be blowing up planets in celebration of all his ‘magnificent babies’. No, you were different and he had no clue why. 

He stared at the back of your head, practically boring a hole in the back of it (which he had done before by the way – the Dark Age was a tricky time to navigate). He scratched at the back of his own head and sighed in frustration before turning on his heel and heading into the kitchen. 

He yanked his dressing gown tighter around his body, leant against the sink and sulked. Had you known who he was you would have scoffed and said ‘see, a spoilt child’. He would have gotten mad and sulked some more, maybe even threatened to smite you. 

That’s the kind of person you were, though. You got him fired up. You made him sulk like a spoilt child. And then afterwards he would go out and try and make himself better. Or he’d contemplate what you said and learn something from it. 

Maybe that’s why Chuck liked you so much. He learnt things from you. He could easily give himself the ability to learn anything, but you taught him something that he couldn’t give himself the ability to learn. You taught him to see through all the bullshit in the world. You saw things as they were and you told it straight. 

You were a rare bird in a world of snakes. His little dove. He called you that one time and you’d punched him in the arm. No one had ever done that to him before. He’d never let anyone do it. You were the first and last person to ever punch God and suffer no consequences. 

Nevertheless, he hadn’t called you his little dove since. But he still said it in his mind sometimes. And when the Winchesters asked him where he was going if he bailed, Chuck would simply say ‘I’ve got a little dove at home that needs taking care of’. Chuck was sure they thought he had an actual bird. 

Another reason to add to the list of reasons not to let you meet the Winchesters. They’d let slip about the ‘little dove’ thing and you’d punch him in the arm again. He was still recovering from the last time. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Chuck looked up at Charlie. She was standing in the entryway with a disapproving look and for the life of him, Chuck couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. Humans were very complicated creatures. 

“Um, thanks for the insult Charlie, you’re really making me feel good about myself.”

She rolled her eyes and walked over to stand in front of him. “Ugh, would you just shut up and tell Y/N how you feel already?”

Chuck raised his eyebrows and looked around the kitchen, waiting for you to jump out and explain what the joke was. 

Apparently, it wasn’t a joke because you hadn’t jumped out and Charlie was still staring at him expectantly. “I-I-I don’t know what you mean. Tell her what, exactly?”

Charlie nudged him in the arm and gave him a knowing smile. “You know, that you’re crazy in love with her?”

In love. Was that it? Was that the answer? Could God even fall in love? He loved his creations, but that was different to what Charlie was suggesting. He’d heard many a poem and  
song written about love. It fit. Maybe. 

There was one very important problem. 

“Y/N’s a lesbian.”

Charlie frowned. “Uh, no doofus, she’s bisexual. Wow, nothing really gets in up there does it?” She tapped her knuckles against his forehead. 

Chuck felt the spoilt child in him rise again as he pouted at the jab. He didn’t like it when people insulted his intelligence. “How would you know? She only ever talks about the women she’s dated.”

“One, I’m her best friend. I’m a walking encyclopaedia on everything to do with her. Two, every boyfriend she’s had turned out to be some freaky deek monster. Or just super creepy. Not exactly something you talk about at dinner parties.”

“Oh.” 

Chuck stared at her dumbly. What else was he supposed to do? The entire time he’d known you he’d pined over you and justified keeping his identity from you based on the fact that he could never actually have a relationship with you. Now he could (if you wanted to). But he couldn’t because he was God and you hated God. Didn’t knowing you were bisexual make everything worse? 

It was easy when he knew he couldn’t have you due to biology. Now he couldn’t have you because of his own obstacles. 

“Oh? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Charlie said. Chuck just stared at her and she sighed. “Look, just ask her out would you. She’ll say yes. She thinks you’re cute.”

“She does?” No, bad Chuck. She hates God. You are God. Hence, she hates you. 

“Yes,” Charlie said in exasperation. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him into the living room. “Y/N, Chuck has something he wants to ask you.”

Chuck felt his heart leap into his throat. It had never done that before. You paused the game and gave him your undivided attention. It was just what he always wants. Your  
attention. You. 

God was selfish. You’d said it yourself. He didn’t care about the consequences of his actions. 

So, could Chuck really hide his identity from you just so you would go out on a date with him? The answer was yes – because he was God, and God was selfish.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got more fics at iavengesuperwholock.tumblr.com


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